


third marks the charm

by bellafaithy



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, a little lot of swearing, did this on a whim so, forgive me for grammatical errors, yeonbin is giving me feels these days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafaithy/pseuds/bellafaithy
Summary: Soobin is a nice guy, considerate and likable enough that the teasing he received in school never borders over the sensitive line of bullying. He was well respected, shy, reserved. Yeonjun knows this. He’s sure of it.Now, standing chest to chest in front of him, a wicked glint in his round eyes, a boldness that is totally new sitting comfortably on his tall frame as he seizes Yeonjun with his eyes alone, suddenly Yeonjun doubts all the knowledge he was shoved with from all sides about this junior.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 16
Kudos: 283





	third marks the charm

**Author's Note:**

> i was experimenting with yeonbin yehet

Choi Soobin was a shy guy. Yeonjun was sure of it.

Words of his humble and polished mannerism spread school-wide the moment he became a sophomore. Yeonjun knows this.

His female friends had been gushing over the insanely tall, handsome cutie lanky junior ever since. He was nice, polite, voice never a third higher an octave even when he’s pissed of at someone’s rude comments about his friends or when that one senior thought it was funny to try trip Soobin over his own toes on his way down the stairs.

Soobin is a nice guy, considerate and likable enough that the teasing he received in school never borders over the sensitive line of bullying. He was well respected, shy, reserved. Yeonjun knows this. He’s sure of it.

Now, standing chest to chest in front of him, a wicked glint in his round eyes, a boldness that is totally new sitting comfortably on his tall frame as he seizes Yeonjun with his eyes alone, suddenly Yeonjun doubts the knowledge he was shoved with from all sides about this junior.

The damn students around them holler, wolf whistling them to get on the action fast. Yeonjun glares down at the empty bottle of coke pointing accusingly to his left, where his seat had previously been between an anticipating San and a maniacally giggling Wooyoung.

“You’re okay?” Soobin’s question comes out in a whisper, like he intends for only Yeonjun to hear. He’s so fucking _close_. Yeonjun wonders a bit if he could hear how his heart is uncharacteristically thrumming in his chest from this proximity. “I can bail out of this if you want.”

If there is anything about himself that Yeonjun is confident of, is his egoistic refusion to back away from any dare he is subjected on, a dare that everybody knows he could execute without a bat of the eyes.

“No,” he almost snaps, unnerved by the teasings and the catcalls around them, urging them to _fucking have a go already!_ Thirsty bastards. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

He grabs at the base of Soobin’s loose tie, tugging him forward to clash against his chest, earning a raised eyebrow from the other. He might be surprised, but the tiniest curls to the corner of his lips say otherwise.

Soobin is so unfairly tall his chin jutted out could simply brush over the tip of Yeonjun’s nose.

Yeonjun expect it to be quick, the whole ordeal, done and begone for, but the moment Soobin lifts up a hand to cup his cheek, deliberate and _taunting_ , Yeonjun knows at the back of his head that he’s done for.

Soobin leans forward without a warning, less than a second spared and Yeonjun almost leaned backwards in surprise, and the whole basement erupts in chaotic cheers as they go banana at the sight of two of the hottest hotshots of the school kissing in front of them, front seat VIP.

Yeonjun honestly doesn’t expect anything, the kiss. He’s heard enough of rumors surrounding the love life of the kid over the last 2 years. But this, soft lips mushed against his like they were the perfect mould that he was missing, tilting his head for better access, prodding Yeonjun with his tongue, Yeonjun might have to rethink his choice of friends.

They’re enjoying the show too much.

He nearly gasps, his hand faltering in its grip around Soobin’s tie, but Soobin keeps him in place with his hand on his face, cradling him like he’s a precious porcelain mug too pretty to break.

A ring cuts through them with a startle, indicating their 10 seconds are up, and it is followed by a string of curses and whines of disappointment as the show is over.

Soobin pulls away, not without a last sneaky lick to Yeonjun’s lower lip, smiling sweetly at him before they both go back to their respective seats.

At the last dark glimmer in his eyes, even when the stupid game continues on until 9 in the night, Yeonjun still wonders if the last shit Soobin pulled was for show, or for him to judge.

It’s a stupid idea. Yeonjun wants it printed bold and red on their bulletin board for the whole school to see ‘SAN IS THE IDIOTIC SADISTIC MANIPULATIVE JERK WHO TAKES ADVANTAGE OF HIS FRIENDS’ KINDNESS’.

But admittedly, “You gotta admit, kissing booth could bring us tons of cash in return especially with you and Taehyung hyung in the line,” that idea could only bring joy to him if only Yeonjun was just a sucker for that bling bling and could push aside any moral values left within him.

Not to say he hasn’t kissed anyone before. But he couldn’t imagine kissing anyone for the sake of cash instead of the general endorphin sugar rush that he would admit to being addicted during middle school.

He’s way past that phase, he could proudly say that. But now, fanning himself by tugging at the front of his uniform with a desperation for a faster cooling, he feels rebellious enough to like scream across the hallway for the goddamn lip balm that San had promised to bring him like 5 minutes ago before he went scurrying off to the class where Hongjoong’s class’s anime cosplay is held in.

“He’s wearing the Misaki maid cosplay and I’m not calling myself a hoe if I don’t get to see him in one!!” was San’s passionate hollering, probably loud enough to be heard over two blocks away. 

Granted, every customer they received would have an interval of a half a minute each before resuming, but it’s been more than half an hour after Yeonjun’s shift came up and he swears if he kisses three more of them, his lips will fall off from how dry they are.

That doesn’t seem to cut the line short though, as he peeks through the curtains that separates the kissing booth from the waiting lines inside of their classroom, groaning at the least 13 people lining up in his lane.

“San!!” he dramatically yells over the wide opened frame of the window, where the booth is set up at the corner of the classroom in front of the windows, loud and long into the open air because he hopes the fucker hears it from 4 classrooms away. “Get your motherfucking whipped ass over here before I jump off the building!”

Somewhere from Hongjoong’s class, a loud evil cackle responds back, probably from the said fucker. “Coming, buttercup!”

He curses, licking his lips in hopes of keeping the very little moisture left to survive what is left of his shift. Wooyoung rings a bell from outside with a chirpy “Order up!” before lifting up the curtains to make way for Beomgyu to come in.

At the sight of the blonde, he rolls his eyes. Beomgyu gives him an impish grin despite the sheepishness lining his shoulders. “Gyu, you ass,” he says.

“I was curious!” Beomgyu says in defence, as if that alone could make up an excuse for him to be thinking about kissing one of his best friends. “Might as well take the chance when it comes.”

Yeonjun, despite being pouty, still opens his arms for Beomgyu to slide in happily, snuggling into his neck like a kitten, and he resists a giggle from drawing out of his mouth because despite the very scandalizing theme of the booth, they had strict rules of _1) nothing more than a kiss, hands to yourself you horny children, 2) any sounds that indicate more than innocent kissing coming from the booth will automatically merit a good ass kicking, no refund, 3) pay consistently but a good tip would make you an angel_ _😉._

Courtesy to Wooyoung and his smarty mouth. They could cross out the third but well. The rules did prove of its handy more than they thought it would.

So making any sounds nearing scandalizing could warrant Beomgyu the said ass kicking so he’ll just resort to biting on his tongue.

Beomgyu’s lips are sticky and sweet, like he had shoved a mouthful of the cotton candy bought from the candy theme booth from class 3-B before coming here, and Yeonjun sucks on them absentmindedly, craving the sweetness from the dehydration he’s getting from all the summer heat.

“Wow,” Beomgyu pulls away with a dramatic smack to his lips, tasting Yeonjun’s tongue, and pride surges up in him at the reaction. Ethically, that shouldn’t be something he’s supposed to take pride in, but it always feels a bit nice knowing he could pull out a reaction like this from someone.

“They’re right. Your kisses are something, though I liked Taehyunnie’s better,” he says like it’s one of those mathematical formulas he keeps trying to crack open with Taehyun. “It kinda gives away that you’ve done it hundreds of time.”

“You’re to talk. As if you didn’t smooch me the first time we met in elementary and thought it was an appropriate way of greeting. And who the hell compares him boyfriend’s kisses with his best friend?” Yeonjun folds his arms over his chest, resting his ass on the desks that were pushed up against the wall earlier this morning to make room for the booth.

“We were like 10, okay? And Taehyun himself told me to come over so bluerk,” Beomgyu retorts with a jerk of his tongue, fishing out his wallet from his back pocket with a finesse that Yeonjun usually associates with filthy rich students getting money rained all over them from their parents.

“If I give you extra tips, are you gonna give me extra smooches?” Beomgyu asks with a raised eyebrow. “Consider it done for Taehyun’s behalf.”

“Just get the kid over here and I’ll give em myself.”

“Gimme my damn smooches.”

“Next one in line!” Wooyoung’s voice booms outside, his hand pawing at the curtains in case Yeonjun doesn't notice.

Shooing Beomgyu out is a labour of its worth. Yeonjun even forgets to ask him for any extra lip balm because Beomgyu has a knack of carrying an extra with him wherever he goes, despising the dryness that comes with the heat of the summer.

“Oh, Huening!” Wooyoung’s surprise rivals that of Yeonjun at the mention of his name. “Surprise to see you here.”

“I came to see hyung. Hyung!” Hueningkai plays peek-a-boo with the bottom of the curtains, beaming up at him as he comes in.

“Woah, didn’t expect to see you here,” it’s Yeonjun’s turn to be sheepish. Hueningkai has always been that one junior who looks up to him no matter what nuisance he committed. Seeing the kid here witnessing the things he would do for cash (he’s blaming San and his awfully terrific tactics in persuasion) kinds of implies to the younger what he might really be, jokes aside.

“Yea. Ah, it’s not for me, though,” Hueningkai says, slanted eyes glimmering with mischief. “I did come to pay you a visit. But I was saving a spot!”

“Whose spot?” belatedly, Yeonjun notices Hueningkai’s hand reaching out underneath the curtains, holding them up still mid-air, and he sees a pair of legs waiting too closely behind them, clearly out of the waiting line of his lane Wooyoung set up with their classmates.

“Woo hyung! Can he come in now? I promise I was just saving him a spot,” Hueningkai peers down, grinning victoriously at the muffled tut Wooyoung gives him.

“Get in there.”

Yeonjun’s mouth dries up considerably faster than his own lips when someone—Soobin, slips inside with one smooth duck, training a rather miffed glare at Hueningkai who just bats his eyes back at him playfully (seriously, what is up with him right now, so suspicious).

Then he fixes his eyes on Yeonjun, and he resists flinching at the sudden attention.

“Kai-ah, you didn’t,” Soobin bemoans to the youngest, his usually upturned lips curling down in disappointment and it’s such an unusual sight but Hueningkai just laughs it away like it’s normal. Like they’ve had this conversation before and Soobin couldn’t do anything other than just to accept.

Accept _what_? Accept _this_?

“Oh I _did_ ,” Hueningkai sing-songs. “He lost to a game of darts with Taehyun and Jeongguk hyung just now, and his penalty was to make out with a senior.”

“Why do you people like to fuck with your seniors so much? You’ll just be scarred for life, take me as an example,” Yeonjun says, but he‘s more amused than concerned about the fact that Soobin could even participate into things like this.

Things that don’t fit in with his characteristics, his demeanour. But maybe that’s just because Yeonjun is just like everybody else. Not knowing him well beyond the words that circulated him like flies. “And of all people, Jeongguk. Geez, that guy exactly knows how to game.”

Soobin is scratching at his sideburn, slightly abashed, and the act is more endearing than Yeonjun would have liked to admit.

“So you’re here for the penalty? Don’t know what’s that supposed to make me feel though,” Yeonjun chuckles.

“You should be giddy! Soobin hyung only agreed to this when I mentioned your shift is up,” Hueningkai pipes.

“Wha—!”

Soobin’s mouth clamps shut at the pointed look Yeonjun gives him, the tip of his ears reddening. Hueningkai gives them a salute before bailing out of there before someone decides to claw on his face for telling (Soobin).

Hueningkai, you sneaky little brat, Yeonjun wants to say. But that would give him away all too easily. And Yeonjun doesn’t want to be considered as easy.

“So it’s safe to assume that this wasn’t exactly a penalty for you? Or I’m just getting ahead of myself here?” Yeonjun smiles.

Soobin shifts on his footing, looking around the interior design of the booth. It’s half-assed, with exaggerating love-shaped red cardboard cuts and balloons hanging here and there. The curtains are a baby pink hue so that’s a relief to the eyes, at least.

He takes bold wide steps, slow and smooth like he’s gauging Yeonjun’s response to his advance, rebutting Yeonjun’s statement. “Beomgyu’s wrong,” he says, coming to a stop a foot away.

“Wrong about what?”

“He’s wrong,” Soobin says with a pout, like the idea itself upsets him. “You kissed me like you’ve never been kissed before,” his perches his hands on the edge of the table, caging Yeonjun in between his arms, yet he keeps the distance between them a breath away. An easy escape.

Oh.

Yeonjun reddens, feels the heat radiating off of Soobin from the proximity. Coupled with the summer heat, it’s almost unbearable.

“That kinda implies I haven’t done it,” Yeonjun bites back a smile, Soobin darting his eyes down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. Damn, he’s so tall and looming, Yeonjun’s jealous. And a little bit intimidated.

“I’m just curious,” there he goes again, slipping a hand up to cradle Yeonjun’s face, tender and gentle, despite the dark clouding his eyes. “If I could get the same reaction from you again.”

The kiss, a contradictory to Beomgyu’s sticky sweet, his is minty, a hint of strawberry and soda, a little bit of lip biting and tongue, and the feeling knocks Yeonjun of his breath.

“Sorry, I had soda just now,” Soobin apologizes, yet the aggression of his teeth says otherwise.

Yeonjun has to stifle a whimper from slipping out when Soobin licks at his bottom lip, the hand abandoning his face to sink its fingers into the back of his head, and he fists the collar of Soobin’s uniform in startle.

He’s feeling a sense of déjà vu, the only differences are the table digging into his back and the fingers tangling in his hair to tilt his head to the side for a deeper access.

And no audience. That’s a plus.

“Good,” Soobin breathes out, wiping the stray spit glossing over Yeonjun’s lips with his thumb, dragging the flesh with the pad. “At least I know we’re on the same page.”

Yeonjun wants to ask what the hell is he talking about, but Soobin has already completely peels away, a rush of air hitting Yeonjun front from the absence of his body, cooling the heat down a notch. He trudges over towards the piggy bank the size of a basket ball at the exit (Wooyoung had said it was _for aesthetic purpose!_ ), slipping inside a few bank notes in a haste.

Yeonjun’s eyes widen a fraction at the flash of big numbers, but immediately schools his face when Soobin turns around to face him once more. Gone is the poised, nonchalant air, replaced with a more reserved, shy smile on his face.

“If you want, you can come over to my booth for hotdogs. My shift is almost up. It’ll be on me,” he says quickly, a pretty pink tint to the apples of his cheekbones, before sliding out.

Yeonjun swears his heart did not just swell up.

“Congrats on your graduation, hyung,” is what Yeonjun hears before whipping around at the soft voice behind him, hands stilling from pushing open an umbrella.

“Hey, Soobinnie,” he beams.

His graduation ceremony had just ended, with a lot of sniffles and group hugs and flowers and sweets shoved to him courtesy of his friends and classmates. His bag is loaded with the stuffs so he had to discreetly give away some of the gifts to his junior friends (boy did Hueningkai and Beomgyu dig that up) just so he won’t fall all over his ass on his way back home from the heavy load.

Where he was greeted with a teary hug from the BeomHueTae (the Beomgyu Hueningkai and Taehyun the dumb trio as how Yeonjun likes to address) when the ceremony neared to an end, Soobin was nowhere to be seen.

Yeonjun doesn’t understand himself at this point. Soobin has been nothing more than just an unfortunate soul dragged into doomsday with him at an equally unfortunate time (the kisses) and he’s never properly communicate with the younger other than those requirements.

It didn’t stop the twinge of disappointment in his chest though. He knows for a fact that Soobin is real close to the trio, so seeing them without him celebrating the last day of his high school year is, well, hurts a bit.

“You didn’t go back with your parents?”

“Nah. Thought I would stay back for a while before going home. It’s not just my last day in school,” Yeonjun fiddles with the button of the handle, suddenly not trusting himself to look at Soobin in the eyes.

“We’re moving to Seoul. My parents had been holding back up till the day of my graduation. My mom got a great job offer there so…” when he turns for a glance, Soobin’s face is crestfallen.

Yeonjun’s lips parted in shock. Soobin’s eyes flickered, and the profound sadness that was once there diminishes in a second.

“Seoul,” Soobin repeats, looking away. “That’s kinda far.”

“Yea, but the offer was too good to refuse. My dad almost called his office right there and then for an immediate transfer,” Yeonjun tries to laugh away the awkwardness, the tension in the air. “And it’ll be closer to the college that I’m aiming for, if I did managed to get in, of course.”

“You’ll get in,” Soobin says almost instantly, with such blind assurance that Yeonjun wants to smile at the faith he has on him. “No matter where you go, you’ll do great. Better than us.”

“What is that?” Yeonjun chuckles, mimes prodding him with the umbrella, abashed.

“When are you leaving?” Soobin has his eyes trained somewhere on his neck.

“Hmm. It’s actually tonight,” Soobin visibly deflates, shoulders dropping even with the way he holds his expression stoic, and Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a little confused, a little bit hopeful.

“My dad likes to drive at night and I’m pretty much a morning person so I can continue driving at dawn,” Soobin might not need it but Yeonjun feels obligated to explain, to imply that he’s going away now, so if he wants to reach out, now’s the fucking time.

The rain is pouring outside like there’s no tomorrow. The breeze it brings with almost cuts through the layers of sweaters he’s in and he thanks his mom for bringing him the boots he left at home this morning.

Soobin fidgets on his feet, his tall lanky frame a bit slouchy from all the years of leaning down to talk to people who were smaller than him. Yeonjun kind of wants to push at his shoulders to straighten them up.

“Can I have a last request?” Soobin asks, a bit shy, but there is no doubt to his tone or the determine in his eyes.

_Last request._ Yeonjun don’t want it to be last.

“Sure thing, kiddo. It’s my last day, anyway,” he replies, tamping down the sadness threatening to take over his face, and dares to look straight into Soobin’s eyes with a smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

The request is probably lost in the harsh pitter-patter of the rains and the wind slapping on their faces. Yeonjun reads it on Soobin’s lips more so than hears him.

When Soobin comes forward, steps timid and careful, he’s actually giving room for Yeonjun to bail out of there anytime.

An easy escape. That damn sense of déjà vu.

Yeonjun hopes Soobin doesn’t realize the way his lower lip quivers the slightest bit as he closes in, finding home and comfort in the familiarity of it. Soobin kisses him like he hasn’t seen him for ages, kisses him like Yeonjun is the only breather he needs. Like Yeonjun is his lover.

Instead of a hand to the face like Yeonjun banks on, Soobin wounds an arm around his shoulder, testing the water. When Yeonjun doesn’t comment on it, just presses further, he snakes another around Yeonjun’s waist, hugging him close as much as he can.

There’s no one left at the foyer of the building. Probably the less fortunate students who left their umbrellas back at home or the guards in duty. Probably a teacher or two staying back a little to get their works done so that they won’t have to bring it home. But Soobin kisses him like he doesn’t give a shit, like he doesn’t care if there will be audience.

It’s so different from the first time they did it, or the second. He’s chasing it solely for the sake of it.

Affection, heat swells up considerably in Yeonjun’s chest, hands clutching to Soobin’s collars with a kind of desperation that would have embarrassed himself, as Soobin drinking in his soft whimpers.

It’s late. The clock is teasing too close to the 6 mark. His parents had told him to get back before 7. But he wants this. He needs this.

Some sort of closure to what they are.

When they pull away for a breather, Soobin burying his nose into his cheek, does Yeonjun registers the wetness smearing his cheek. He thought it’s just the rain droplets reaching for them, but Soobin nuzzles deeper, hiding his face when Yeonjun tries to take a look.

“Are you...crying?” Yeonjun asks, flabbergasted. Tears fall in fat droplets down the side of Soobin’s face when he manages to look.

He looks so sad, so heartbroken, eyes so dimmed that Yeonjun’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. It hurts. “Why’re you crying? Did I do—”

“I’m sorry,” Soobin doesn’t try wiping his tears away, just lets them run down like he’s been keeping them in for so long. “I’m sorry. I like you.”

Thunderstruck, Yeonjun gapes up at him, the weight of those words pressing on him like concentrated bubble of water, rendering him breathless. He doesn’t even realize Soobin had pulled away, taking a big step backwards, closing himself off completely from Yeonjun.

“I like you, hyung. I can't explain how or why, but I do. I’m sorry,” he turns on his heel, walking away towards the general direction of the school’s office.

The rain is unmerciful outside. Yeonjun has another huge batch of boxes waiting to be loaded into their van once he gets home. He has to prepare for two interviews from local universities a week from today. He needs to help his parents settle down in their new house in Seoul faster so that they could go about their first days of work easier while he gets ready for college.

A long-distance relationship sounds too much of a hassle, too much of a heartthrob than Yeonjun would have liked to commit himself in.

But he wants to give it a shot, he reasons, as his fingers closes around Soobin’s wrist and he tugs, Soobin whipping around in shock, the tears still fresh and overwhelming in his eyes.

“Gimme your phone,” Yeonjun demands, looking back and forth at the younger and the huge clock wall of the building. The bus is going to catch up in 10 minutes if he doesn’t run for it now. “Mine is dead. Come on!”

Soobin, red swollen eyes, fishes out his phone from his back pocket and lets Yeonjun snag it off his hand, Yeonjun furiously typing away on the keyboard after Soobin unlocks it.

“Here, text me,” shoving the phone back into Soobin’s hand, Yeonjun glares up at Soobin gawking at him, apprehension, hope, vulnerability. All so crystal clear and open in Yeonjun’s eyes even through Soobin’s welled up eyes.

Even through the tears, Soobin swears the older’s eyes are brimming. His hands twitch to grab at him again when the older turns to run, but is beat down to it when Yeonjun stomps up to him, yanks him down by the neck and kisses him square on the lips one last time.

“Fucking text me or I will not be able to do anything about it afterwards,” Yeonjun warns, a sniffle. Soobin cracks a teary smile. “You should know by then what you’re getting yourself into. It’s a risk I’m willing to take because it’s _you_.”

****

****

****

**_[A new message!]_ **

**_011XXXXXXXXXX:_ **

_hey hyung_

_it’s soobin_

**Author's Note:**

> i salute those who could do LDR like it's so tough and hard. but it's also heartwarming to see how loyal they could be to each other despite the obstacles


End file.
